Tag Archives: bridging worlds

Making Your Unknown Known

When I went to London in the late 1960s I brought a sword with me on the plane. (It was allowed in those days.) I was bringing it over for a friend. Seven years later, when it became time for … Continue reading

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To Look Within

I write my life to know my life. When I write my life, the inner truth comes out. It’s like when I draw, a barrier disappears. Or fades to the background. And suddenly I’m in touch with this other vibratory field. This other awareness that rises to the surface and makes itself known. Continue reading

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The Truth About Acting

What I learned as an actor should be shouted from the rooftops by every single one of us who has ever trod the boards – that along with the heartbreak that so often comes with a life in the theater, comes the knowledge that we all have in us the possibility of every human thought that has ever been considered. We don’t have to act on it, but we can act it. Play it. Because we know how to play. We know how to imagine “what if.” Continue reading

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Creative Juice

“Myth is the secret opening… A myth we re-quicken in our minds and our lives, brings creative juice…” Joseph Campbell Continue reading

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The Cabin in the Clearing

Whenever I looked out the window I saw two scenes, the one from the present, and this other one, so obviously from the past. From Brooklyn as it once was. Continue reading

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Flowing Fences

I used to walk along looking at people and objects and things, noticing them, studying them, whereas now I am conscious of energy. Everything I see is an example of an energy flow. Continue reading

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Healing Past Life Memory

Carol Lamb on past life memories: “It’s the healing that proves the story; an exchange of energy occurs in the process, but there has to be a letting go.” Continue reading

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My Country Estate Across the Street

I’ve always known Prospect Park was a public park, and while I’ve been grateful to live so close by, I have felt its limitations as well as my own limitations in not being able to walk somewhere different for a change. Just for a change… Then this strange thing happened last night…and I was the one who changed… Continue reading

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Art Streams

Form and color they stream
through me and through you Continue reading

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Only A Dream Away

When my mother died twenty-eight years ago I was living two blocks from the explosion on Thursday in the East Village. On Thursday afternoon, while fires raged and the first building collapsed, I was dreaming about my mother. I had been up since 4am, and had taken a nap. I dreamed I was on my way to visit my mother in Illinois, and when I stopped to change buses, I saw my mother selling tickets. She had long yellow hair. Continue reading

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